Fiction: Bringing the Light (Part 4)

Within seconds, two things were clear: Vasu had little experience with this level of intimacy, but he wanted it badly. His hands grasped at me, his physical desire was hard against my body and his lips pulled at mine roughly. We stumbled in the dark to the bed, shedding clothes along the way, and fell onto the sheets. Only moments ago, we had both been cold; now we were sweating and almost panting. Release came fast and left us both breathless, our bodies sinking into sweaty stillness.

After a few minutes, Vasu started to rise from the bed. I groped for his hand in the dark and dragged him back down.

“Where are you going?” I demanded. I wanted more than physical release. He wanted a shower, he said. I laid in the dark while he showered, the door prudently shut between us.

When he came out, the bathroom light outlined his nakedness as he stood a second, hesitating, not sure what to do next. I pulled the covers back and invited him to lie back down. His still damp flesh was so cold it shocked my skin, and I pulled the covers over us both, pulling him roughly against me. He laughed, still awkward in this new intimacy, his hands and arms hitting me clumsily as he found a space to lie.

He finally settled with his arm across my belly, his face against my chest, my hand in his hair and an arm around his shoulders. It was incredible how right this felt to me, and I hoped it was for him also.

For several minutes, we laid in the dark, his breath steady, my hand stroking his hair. Then he spoke, his voice quiet against nature’s symphony outside.

“You have done this many times?” he asked.

“Had someone come to change light bulbs in the middle of the night in the jungle?” I joked.

He stirred so that his head was under my chin, not wanting to joke. “This – what we just did,” he persisted. “I have not done this so much.”

“When have you done this then?” I wanted to know.

He shrugged against my arm. “Cousin brothers. Classmates in school. Once or twice with PG mates.”

I considered his past partners. Cousin brothers were relatives – cousins – who were like brothers to each other, often spending a lot of time together. Classmates and PG mates – probably sexually frustrated heterosexuals, possibly closeted gays.

He nudged me with his head. He wanted me to share my experience. So I did. I told him how I knew I was homosexual since I was 4 years old. How I had always been attracted to boys, to men. That I had had flings as well as serious relationships with gays in the US, with hetero guys who had wanted to experiment, with other Indian gays. He listened and was silent even after I was done talking.

Finally, he said, “I’m not gay.” Though he sounded unsure of himself, my heart sank. I had felt the exact opposite from him since the first day we had seen each other. And most of our experiences until now, though hardly that intimate, had carried an electric attraction tempered with friendship. I couldn’t be the only one who felt that.

He continued, softly, “I can’t be gay. If I was, my family would kill me.” His words saddened me, filling me with a strong protective feeling. I suddenly and violently wrapped my arms around him, dragging him roughly against me. He didn’t protest but allowed me to pull and tug him, abandoning himself to me.

“Whatever you are,” I said fiercely, “you’re mine for the next week.”

His laughter tickled my chest where his head pressed, and then he was the one pulling me, rolling onto his back and bringing me to sprawl over him. There was no barrier now between us – no class differences. Just skin against skin and shared arousal. I leaned down and kissed him, slowly and deeply. This time I would show him how slow and intimate release could be.

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Morning came sneaking through the windows, spilling grey light where the sun found a way through the curtains. Vasu slept, and I laid and watched him wake. Then, he stirred, pushing back the covers, with his eyes shut tight and wrinkles on his forehead. When his arms hit my chest, his eyes flew open, vividly blue in the dim light.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, and flew out of bed. “Shit!” he exclaimed again, now trying to find his clothes still scattered all over the floor.

I sat up, mystified by his frantic actions. “What are you doing, ya?” I asked.

He stopped long enough to say he needed to get back to the van or everyone would know he had slept with me! I couldn’t help it – I started to laugh out loud. He again stopped his frantic dressing, his underwear in one hand, his undershirt dangling comically from his neck where he had just drawn it over.

“Don’t laugh!” he cried. “Help me find my pants, ya!”

“Do you really think no one spotted you when you came down here last night?” I asked. “These guys live in a jungle! Any strange noise is probably noticed.”

He tsked at me, searching through our mingled clothes.

I got out of bed and caught his flailing arms in both of my hands. “Vasu, why do you care if these people know we slept in the same room together? We won’t ever see them again. They aren’t going to tell a soul about it because they want their money for the room. Besides, I have a suspicion about the resort manager.” I pulled him back to the bed.

He sat down, his body half adorned in what clothes he could find. “What about the manager?” he asked, letting me push him down. He was already half convinced by my words.

“He is all alone out here, surrounded by young men in the middle of a jungle,” I teased. “No wife, I guess. No women at all out here that I saw. Hmmm?”

I was removing what few clothes he had managed to wear. He grinned up at me, and I continued, “He has gotten his money for the room.” I straddled him, feeling his physical desire rising, and kissed first the tangle of hair on his chest and then moved to his neck. His breath had quickened.

“They will probably think I asked you to come and stay to protect me from wild beasts in the night.” I grinned and pulled back to look into his eyes. “And I do want you to stay here. With me. In this room. What can they say?”

In the growing light, Vasu was turning shy. He no longer wanted to leave. He was convinced, it seemed, that money and wild beasts would keep anyone’s mouth shut. But what darkness had left anonymous the night before, morning was highlighting: boundaries shattered. My pale skin against his dark. The differences in our bodies, both aroused and pressed together.

His hands slid up to cover my chest. “I have never done this before,” he said softly.

“Done what?” I wondered what he could mean, our activities from the night before still vivid in my mind, at least.

“Stayed, you know?” He wanted me to understand, talking slowly, but with gravity. “With cousins, classmates, PG mates – they just wanted…release. Then gone – him to his bed or out, me out or wherever. Or with cousins, he would go home until next time, if there even was a next time. I never…stayed after. What do I…what do we do…now?”

His vulnerability was sweet and suddenly I wanted to teach him all the things he should know between two men sharing with each other.

I grinned down at him. “You have a lot to learn,” I said. “And we have a week to teach you.” After that week was over…well, we would wait and see.